


You May Be Right (I May Be Crazy)

by spaceyho



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2012 lockout, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Washington Capitals, alex is obnoxious and we all love him, but he's in love so what can you do, but like, its supposed to be set before they actually start playing with the khl, nicky is an oblivious idiot, please help him, they don't really play hockey in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceyho/pseuds/spaceyho
Summary: Nicklas sets his phone back on the counter, and blinks at the fogged over reflection in his mirror. He is so utterly fucked. He hasn’t made the decision to go to Russia, but he has made the decision to make that decision. It’s basically the same thing, but there’s enough of a difference that he feels like he can justify stalling making it final.orOviNicky: The Lockout





	You May Be Right (I May Be Crazy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thorne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorne/gifts).



Nicklas learned quickly that Alex is a force to be reckoned with. Nicklas would never call himself shy. Quiet or reserved, maybe, around certain people; but never shy. He likes people and he likes hockey. And he’s good at hockey, he knows that. Sure, he’s not boastful, and most of the time, he simply prefers to play the game and be left out of the spotlight, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his own talent. But Alex. Alex is something else.

Sometimes, Nicklas thinks if he had a polar opposite, it’s name would be Alex Ovechkin. But other times he knows that’s not quite right. They’re actually a lot more alike than most people assume, Alex just takes everything to the next degree. If Nicklas likes people, Alex loves people, and if Nicklas likes hockey, Alex loves hockey. Alex is loud and unabashedly himself, no matter what the situation, and while Nicklas would consider himself a genuine person, he admires Alex and his ability to love himself so wholly. And Nicklas is good at hockey. He’s spent his whole life making sure of that, but Alex. 

Oh, Alex.

Alex is so good sometimes it makes Nicklas want to cry. He knows, most of the time, all he has to do is get the puck to connect with Alex’s stick and his captain will do something beautiful with it. He knows that just like he will always be there when Alex needs him, Alex will always be there for Nicklas.

So maybe Alex isn’t his opposite, but he does balance him out perfectly. It does seem, often, that they were made to play hockey together; Nicklas always knows he can count on Alex. And that chemistry during the game doesn’t go away off the ice. Alex always seems to know just want he needs. It’s uncanny sometimes.

So there’s a lockout. It’s happened before, but not while Nicklas was playing the the NHL. The last one, in the 04-05 season, he still played with Elitserien. He thinks maybe he might go back there, but he’s still undecided. He remembers playing in Sweden during the 2004 lockout and how the influx of player from the NHL affected his own season there. It’s not like he doesn’t have options either; he could always go to Switzerland or even Germany but it’s like he’s putting off making the decision. He’d like to think he doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to decide, but he knows. It’s because he doesn’t want to think about not playing with Alex. It’s ironic, playing as a center, how Alex seems to be Nicklas’ own personal center sometimes. So while he sits on his couch, drowning in his own thoughts, lost in the back of his own mind, trying to focus on where he wants to go while at the same time not wanting to think about it at all, it’s not much of a surprise when his phone chirps to pull him back to the present.

Or at least, he isn’t surprised to see that it’s Alex who’s texted him.

**coming over)))**

Nicklas glances at the time and makes the assessment that it’s a fairly reasonable hour and he could probably go for some company; but should maybe put a shirt on first.

_When will you be here?_

He doesn’t know how Alex always texts so fast, but his reply comes only seconds later and once again, Nicklas is anything but surprised.

**now))))))))**

And then there’s a brief, rapid succession of knocks on his door before it opens and Alex Ovechkin invites himself in.

“I bring food,” he informs Nicklas, holding up takeout cartons. It’s Chinese, which Nicklas doesn’t really have much of an opinion on one way or the other, but he knows Alex loves, so his chest warms and he smiles at the sight.

“I see that,” he finally responds, standing from his couch, “Let me go put a shirt on.”

Alex looks almost genuinely confused at that as he sets the takeout containers on the breakfast bar, “Why? Is your house, wear or not wear whatever you want. Be comfort. Who cares?”

“Is it my house?” Nicklas cracks a tiny smile that curls just one corner of his lips as he heads towards Alex and the food, “Could have fooled me, you just walking in like that. Would think it’s your house.”

The Russian seems to contemplate this seriously for a moment, then nods, “Yes, yes. Of course, you right. I should be comfy too,” and then, without considering it further, Alex pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it onto the couch, leaving him only in those stupid grey sweatpants, then just nods again, like that’s that, and it’s amazing that for all the times that Alex fails to surprise Nicklas with his ridiculousness, that he can still manage to do something so utterly Alex and catch him off guard with it.

So Nicklas just laughs, because what else can he do.

“Why you laugh?” Alex pouts, lower lip sticking out more than usual, “Is just logic. You say is my house, I wear what I want in my house,” and then he shrugs again.

Nicklas chuckles again, but doesn’t really respond, just shakes his head and asks, “Why are you here?” and pulls up a stool at the bar to sit on.

Alex cocks an eyebrow as he too takes a seat, and gives Nicklas a knowing look, “Know you alone. Know you-” he seems to struggle for the word for a moment, then lands on, “-pout,” and then reaches to poke Nicklas on the forehead, “Think too much.”

“I don’t think too much,” Nicklas protests, even though he knows that’s exactly what he was doing before Alex showed up.

And Alex knows Nicklas, so he just blinks at him incredulously, then gestures at the Chinese, “Eat the food, Nicky, and stop thinking.”

And it’s hard to argue with that, so Nicklas opens the container nearest him and grabs a pair of chopsticks. There’s silence between them as they eat, but it’s not uncomfortable or awkward or anything; it’s actually kind of pleasant. It’s not often that Alex actually is quiet and sometimes Nicklas forgets that Alex is actually capable of not talking. It’s not that Nicklas is annoyed by Alex’s constant chatter or like he wishes Alex would spend more time like this, just enjoying silence; quite the opposite in fact.

Alex is loud and in-your-face about who he is. Even on the ice in the middle of a game, Alex rarely shuts up, always shouting one thing or another, often directed at Nicklas himself, and while some might grow tired of such after so many years, Nicklas is just as enamored as when they first met. He loves to play with Alex, Alex who plays such beautiful hockey and isn’t shy to admit it. Alex who knows when to shoot the puck and when to pass it, who always seems to know just where Nicklas is on the ice, who always rushes to Nicklas first for a celly. Nicklas thinks he’s lucky to play with Alex, to play with his best friend.

In times of silence like this, chewing on shrimp lo mein in his kitchen with his captain, Nicklas might be honest with himself and admit that he’s absolutely in love with Alex, and probably has been for most of the years they’ve played together. Most of the time, he doesn’t think like that though. Most of the time, he tells himself he’s only in love with how Alex plays hockey; so beautiful.

But times like this are not for denial. Nicklas still hasn’t decided what he’s going to do for the lockout. Who knows when the season will return - if at all - and he has to find somewhere to play until then. It’s not so much that he’s worried he’ll have trouble finding somewhere to take him, he just doesn’t know where he wants to go. There’s enough uncertainty in his life right now that Nicklas has to be sure of at least something and right now, late at night at his breakfast bar, he’s chosen his love for Alex.

As he’s finishing that thought and a mouthful of noodles, Alex turns deliberately toward him and Nicklas knows the silence is over.

“I’m going back to Russia,” Alex says, simple, doesn’t elaborate because he knows that Nicklas knows what he means.

And Nicklas isn’t surprised, “Figured you would,” he answers with a shrug. He’s been trying not to think about Alex leaving and having to spend more time than normal away from him, but it seems Alex has chosen now to talk about it.

Or maybe that was it, because Alex doesn’t say anything more, and appears to be done, like he just wanted to make sure Nicklas knew. So there’s silence again and Nicklas continues to eat, only now he doesn’t feel so relaxed in the silence, because he’s thinking about Alex in another country, playing gorgeous hockey with another team without him there and Nicklas still hasn't even decided where he’s going for the lockout, so it’s not like he can really feel jealous or that he’s even sure the deep twisting in his gut even is jealousy. Now he’s tired of the silence, but he can’t think of anything to say that isn’t about Alex leaving so he just asks, “When do you leave?”

Alex doesn’t seem deterred by the mouthful of food he still has and just answers around it, “Wednesday.”

Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. That’s so soon and suddenly Nicklas is torn between fury that Alex didn’t tell him when he was leaving sooner, and sadness that he only gets two days with him.

He’s being dramatic, of course; Alex isn’t the only one capable of overreacting, even if Nicklas usually does it in his own head. Of course he’s going to see Alex again eventually. The lockout will end, they always do, and Nicklas knows he’ll be back playing with Alex and they’ve always been apart during the off seasons, but that doesn’t stop Nicklas from feeling like he’s never going to see Alex again.

He really needs to figure out where he’s going. Hockey will help. It reminds him of Alex, sure, and he’ll still miss him and wish he were playing with him, but hockey is something to focus on to help make the time go faster. 

Probably back home to Sweden, that’s where he’ll go. It’s good and familiar, and if he’s home, it’ll feel more like an off season and those he can survive away from Alex, he always has.

“Can feel you thinking,” Alex says, pulling Nicklas from his thoughts again, like he always does. Alex pokes his forehead again, still chewing and continues, “What you thinking about?”

Nicklas pauses for a moment, then opens his mouth to tell Alex he’s thinking about going home too, back to Sweden, but instead, Alex doesn’t actually let him talk, just speaks all at once, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t get it out right that second, he won’t ever say it.

“Come with me.”

Nicklas blinks, thrown off by that and says the only thing he can think, “What?”

And Alex presses on though, “I’m leave two days, come with me. Come play Dynamo hockey. With me. In Russia,” he continues, like maybe Nicklas didn't understand that that’s what Alex wanted.

Nicklas just blinks again then huffs, “You’re crazy.”

“You like though,” Alex says, grinning slyly as he pokes at the last of his takeout and Nicklas doesn’t agree out loud, even though it’s true, but he also doesn’t argue, because he’s not a good liar unless it’s through omission.

So he just scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I can’t go to Russia.”

“Why not?” Alex presses, and it’s a good question, one that Nicklas doesn’t have an answer to. Or at least, not one that he can share with Alex. Luckily though, it seems Alex isn’t done making his case, “I show you around! We have great time, you love Russia, you see! We play hockey together, need my center.”

Nicklas’ heart clenches at those three words, Alex saying he needs him, and he wants to say yes like he hasn’t wanted anything in a long while, but he knows it’s a terrible idea. Because he will love Russia, he will have fun with Alex, playing hockey, playing tourist with Alex as his terrible and lovable guide. He wants that so bad his chest aches, but that’s why he can’t go. It’ll be too much and he’ll get used to it, to spending time close to Alex alway from hockey and away from the Capitals and he doesn’t think he can really do that to himself, not when he knows Alex can’t feel the way he does.

So he just shakes his head, even though it’s the opposite of what he wants to do.

And Alex pouts. Literally. Lower lip stuck out so far a bird could use it as a perch, he’s like a child and he huffs and asks, “If not with me, where you go?”

And again, Nicklas is not a good liar, especially not to Alex so he shrugs and tells the truth, “Not sure yet. Sweden maybe, back to Elitserien. Or maybe Germany. Good league there. Giroux signed with them.”

At the mention of the Flyer’s captain’s name, Alex makes a face, wrinkling his nose and frowning heavily, “Who care where orange captain goes? Not important. You rather play with him than me? Hmm? Maybe you want trade? Play in Philly??” Nicklas doesn’t understand how Alex can look so serious and so ridiculous at the same time, like he’s somehow simultaneously seriously concerned that Nicklas would actually want to be Flyer, and making sure that Nicklas knows he’s only teasing, making fun of him, so Nicklas snorts and shoves him.

“Shut up,” he protests, cracking a smile as he stands to throw the now empty takeout containers in the trash. When he looks back, Alex has a more serious expression on his face, one that Nicklas doesn’t see very often, usually only before an important game, or after a heavy loss.

“Come with me Nicky,” he requests again, so earnest, and Nicklas knows if he keeps asking, he’s going to cave and say yes. So he just sighs and looks away.

“I’ll think about it,” he says finally and looks back at Alex who’s grinning now, like he’s won.

“You think about it. Then you say yes,” Alex says smugly, like he knows for sure that’s what’s going to happen and Nicklas hates him because it’s probably true.

That seems to be the end of lockout talk for the night though, and Alex stands, reminding Nicklas that he’s still shirtless - that they both are, but Alex doesn’t seem to be looking to change that. Instead, he just heads to the living room and flops down on Nicklas’ couch, seemingly content to stay for a bit longer as he flicks on the T.V. So Nicklas joins him, curling up on the other end of the couch, tucking his bare feet beneath himself as Alex flips through channels, looking for something he finds satisfying. Nicklas isn’t sure what he finally lands on, since he’s not really paying attention to the screen.

Instead, he’s thinking about Alex, about hockey, Sweden, Russia, the lockout - which could go all season and he really has to make a decision. Sweden, he knows, will probably be best for him, but the more he thinks about going to Moscow and playing with Alex and Dynamo, the more he wants that. Which is dangerous.

He’s not sure how much time passes before Alex flicks the T.V. off and stands, stretching his arms over his head, forcing Nicklas to look pointedly at anywhere but Alex so he doesn’t stare at his captain’s bare torso on display like that. Alex grabs his shirt and gives Nicklas a lopsided grin.

“Have to go now,” he says, gesturing to the door, “Things to do tomorrow. I see you in Russia, yes?”

Nicklas returns the smile best he can and says, “We’ll see, Ovi. Goodnight.” And Alex just sighs loudly and shakes his head, but he’s still smiling when he leaves and Nicklas is left with more to think about, which he does. 

He thinks about Sweden, about going there, about his own first season there and how disappointing it was due to the NHL lockout that season. He thinks about Germany and Switzerland and how much he really doesn’t want to go to either of those places. He thinks about Russia and how badly he does want to go there. He thinks about Alex, about playing hockey with him, about playing hockey with him in Russia, about Alex showing him around Moscow on their days off, about Alex’s gap-toothed smile, and loud unmistakable laugh, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles real big, about his powerful arms that give him the means to have such a beautiful slapshot, about his shoulders and back and chest and the v of his hips where they dip below the waistband of those stupid grey sweatpants and-

And Nicklas has to stop there and go to bed before his thoughts get too far away from him.

\--

Nicklas is awoken at 7:38 in the morning by his phone ringing and there’s only one person who would be dumb or brave enough to wake him up before his alarm. His suspicions are confirmed when he looks at the caller ID to see that it is in fact, Alex, and he curses.

“The fuck you want?” He answers, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“Nicky!!” The voice on the other end is far too chipper for Nicklas’ taste and he has never wanted to punch Alex in the face so bad. Except for all the many, many times he’s wanted to punch him more, “Good morning! I wake you? Haha I’m joke, of course I wake you!” And Alex actually has the gall to laugh like he actually made a joke or something.

“What do you want, Ovi,” Nicklas repeats, since Alex never answered him.

“Yes yes, of course! I call to ask you come to Russia with me!”

Even though Nicklas knows Alex can’t see him, he squints, “Didn’t you ask me last night?” He’s pretty sure he remembers that but also he’s half afraid that it was an incredibly vivid dream.

Nicklas can practically hear Alex’s grin on the other end and it is Too Early for this, “Yes and you say you think about it. So have you thought about it?”

Rubbing at his temples, Nicklas gives a sigh. He certainly did a lot of thinking last night, but all he says is, “Yes, I thought about it.”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment before Alex prompts, “And?”

“And I still have not decided,” Nicklas sighs again, “Couldn’t this call waited until later? My alarm goes off in twenty minutes and you know that.”

“Yes I know that, no it not could wait, I let you sleep now though, think more. I call you later, bye Nicky!” And then he hangs up, leaving Nicklas alone in his quiet room with just under twenty minutes until his alarm goes off.

He supposes he could go back to sleep and wait to get up when he usually does, but thanks to Alex, his mind is awake and thinking about Russia again. Russia and Alex. Russia and Alex and his morning wood. A deep sigh escapes his lips and he reaches to his nightstand to turn off his alarm since he won’t be needing it.

There’s just the barest amount of morning light peeking in through his blinds, casting a soft cool glaze over his room that makes him feel somewhat relaxed despite the pressure of making a decision pressing on his mind. He stretches his arms over his head and gives a soft groan as his back pops. He could get up now, should go ahead and get up now, but he’s got time before his usual routine is supposed to start, so he figures there’s no harm in taking a few minutes to deal with the morning hard-on he’s sporting.

He pushes his sheets just low enough that he can get his sweatpants down off his hips and get a hand around himself, and starts with a slow, even pace, eyes closed as he tries to just focus on the feeling of his hand and no think about anything in particular. That fails of course, and before long his mind has begun to wander. It’s all too easy for his thought process to take him from simply imagining that it’s not his own hand, to picturing Alex’s hand wrapped around his dick pumping him slowly, Alex’s mouth on his neck, maybe, mouthing soft, breathy kisses into the warm skin of his throat.

Nicklas stifles a moan with the palm of the hand that isn’t busy, and quickens the pace of the hand that is. It’s terrible and wrong, he knows, getting off thinking about his teammate, his captain and best friend, but it’s not the first time it’s happened, and once his mind has gone there, it’s always hard to direct it somewhere else. Especially when thinking about Alex’s sure and steady hands, well toned-abs, broad shoulders, and muscular arms, and what it would feel like to have the strong Russian pressed above him, into him, muttering words of praise and encouragement, just works so well to get him right where he needs to be.

He comes over his hand and stomach with a tight groan, eyes pressed shut, like if he squeezes them tight enough he can pretend it wasn’t thoughts of Alex that got him off. As his breathing returns to normal, he slowly opens his eyes, staring at his ceiling, wipes his hand off on his chest and says the only thing he can think to sum up the situation he’s in.

“Shit.”

He showers then, feeling somewhat better having cleaned himself, and he’s just stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist when his phone goes off again. He has a sneaking suspicion about who it is, which is confirmed when he looks at the screen.

“What do you want, Ovi?”

“Nicky!” Alex greets in his usual gleeful tone, “Why so grumpy? You awake now, yes?”

It’s barely five past eight, so yes Nicklas’ alarm would have gone off by now, and technically Nicklas never actually went back to sleep after Alex’s first call so he’s even more awake than he would normally be, but that doesn’t stop him from being irritated, “You just called half an hour ago.” It’s not question, and Nicklas doesn't phrase it as such, but still Alex answers.

“Yes! But I tell you I let you sleep, call back later. Is later now! You think about Russia? Come with me, yes?”

Nicklas sighs and knows he won’t be able to keep up with this. He leans against his bathroom counter and rubs at his eyes, “Still thinking, Ovi.”

“Okay!” Alex responds, surprisingly chipper for someone who still hasn’t gotten a ‘yes’, “You think more, I call you later, you tell me when you decide to come to Russia with me!” And then, once again, before Nicklas can protest more, Alex hangs up on him.

So he’s going to call back, and soon, Nicklas is sure. He wishes Alex wouldn’t, wishes he wasn’t so persistent in getting what he wanted, wishes he knew why Alex wants him to come play with him in Russia so badly, because wishful thinking and a powerful imagination can lead to dangerous thoughts. Like maybe Alex wants Nicklas there because he feels the same way Nicklas does. Like maybe Alex thinks about kissing Nicklas, holding his hand, waking up in the same bed the way that Nicklas does.

But that would be crazy and impossible. 

Because Alex is straight, for one. Nicklas has seen him at bars after a win, celebrating with some girl in his lap, practically devouring her face, seen him taking girls back to his hotel room, shooting Nicklas a wink when he catches his eye, seen him blow kisses at girls in the stands, and heard him talk about ex girlfriends in the locker room. Alex is straight, and Nicklas?

Nicklas is not. He’s stupid in love with Alex.

With a sigh, he finishes drying off from his shower and gets dressed. When he’s done, his phone chirps, a text this time and he half expects it to be from Alex, but it’s his agent.

**Have you made a decision?**

Nicklas sighs again; seems to be doing that a lot lately. Just what he needs, someone else asking if he’s decided where to go yet. He frowns and types out his response.

_Not yet. Narrowed down though._

He shoves his phone in his pocket and heads to his kitchen for some breakfast. Toast and fruit sounds pretty good, and maybe some eggs for protein. He’s cracking his third egg into the pan when his phone goes off again, his agent responding.

 **Let me know soon Backy.** is all it says and Nicklas just nods to himself and sets his phone aside to finish making his breakfast.

\--

His day is quiet for the most part after that, until noon when he gets another call from Alex.

“I still haven’t decided, Ovi,” is how he answers the phone.

“Nicky!” Alex doesn’t skip his usual greeting before moving on, “Is fine, I’m actually call to ask you come get lunch with me!” In the background, Nicklas can hear what he thinks is the radio and maybe a siren, so he thinks Alex is probably in the car.

It’s not like Nicklas had any plans, so there’s no reason for him to say no. Besides, it might be his last chance to spend some time with Alex before he leaves for Russia. So he shrugs even though Alex can’t see him, “Sure. Why not? What time?”

“Good! I be there five minutes,” and of course Alex was already on his way over, that’s just who he is, but Nicklas can’t help chirping him about it, just a little.

“What, not planning on taking ‘no’ for an answer?” He teases

On the other end, Alex laughs like he knows something Nicklas doesn’t. It reminds him of his two other phone calls with his captain that morning, “No. Just know you not say no. See you in five, Nicky,” and then he hangs up and Nicklas is left staring at his phone with a sense of bewilderment that after six years, anything Alex could say or do could surprise him. And yet here he is.

He looks down at his clothes and hopes that his jeans and polo will be fine for wherever it is Alex is wanting to eat, because he doesn’t feel like changing. He does, however, run a brush through his hair so as to not look too much like he’s just been chilling on his couch all day. Which he has. But that's beside the point.

Right on time, there’s a succession of knocks on Nicklas’ door and then Alex lets himself in like he always does. He’s dressed in his usual attire of some bizarre t-shirt with Putin on it and his grey sweatpants, so Nicklas assumes his clothes will be fine.

“Nicky!” He greets with a grin, pulling the Swede into a hug that only Alex seems to be comfortable giving people, “You decide to come to Russia yet?”

“I thought we were just getting lunch,” Nicklas doesn’t-answer once Alex has let him go.

“Here for lunch yes, but think maybe you make up mind by now, so I ask,” Alex explains logically and Nicklas just stares at him incredulously.

“In five minutes since you hang up on me?”

Alex just shrugs, grin never faltering and gestures to the door, “Come on. We get lunch now.”

Nicklas pats his pocket to make sure he has his wallet then follows Alex out the door to his ridiculous car and climbs into the passenger seat. Alex drives reckless and too fast and doesn’t seem to ever acknowledge that there are actual traffic laws for him to obey. It drives Nicklas up the wall, but at the same time it’s so very Alex that he also sort of loves it.

Alex appears to be taking them to downtown Ballston, which is nice and familiar and Alex is yammering on about something or another as he drives that Nicklas isn’t really paying attention too because he’s too busy trying not to comment on why Alex is getting on the beltway, when they’re probably not going that far and that it would be faster to just take back roads. But Alex hates it when Nicklas back seat drives so he keeps his mouth shut.

When Alex pulls into the parking garage at Kettler, Nicklas is slightly confused, trying to figure out why Alex would take him to the rink if he asked him to lunch. He shoots Alex a questioning look that goes unnoticed as Alex is too busy doing a terrible parking job.

It turns out they only parked at Kettler and aren't actually going to the rink, because once Alex gets out of the car, he heads for the elevator to take them down to street level and Nicklas follows, trying to pay attention to what Alex is talking about. Poker maybe? 

Whatever. Nicklas shakes his head and follows Alex out into the street. It’s the middle of September, so it’s started to get chilly already, but Nicklas feels fine without a jacket, happy to just tread along behind Alex who leads them into what must be their destination. Nicklas can’t help the tiniest smile when he sees where Alex has taken them.

It’s a Nando’s, and being so close to the rink, it’s one that a lot of the boys eat at, including Nicklas himself. 

They order and take their seats and Alex seems to be wrapping up the story that Nicklas is starting to feel bad for not paying attention to, but he shakes that thought and presses on with what’s been on his mind since Alex called him to ask him for lunch.

“Ovi, thought you said you were busy today. Things to do.”

Alex looks at him with a cocked eyebrow, then nods, soft smile still on his face, “Yes, am busy. Planning leave for Russia tomorrow, planning play for Dynamo, talking to agent. Very busy. But, have free time for lunch!” he gestures at the table where they sit and Nicklas tries not to read too much into Alex wanting to spend his last bits of free time in DC with him before he heads out, maybe for the whole season.

“I’m honored,” Nicklas responds with sarcasm instead of actually thinking about his feelings, “Famous Alex Ovechkin takes time out of busy day to spend with me. How can it be true.”

“I know,” Alex pokes the tip of his tongue out from between his teeth, grinning slyly, “You very lucky. Feel blessed.”

“Yes, I’ll tell my children about this day,” Nicklas rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He can’t help it when it comes to Alex. 

“Yes, they be very impressed, I’m sure,” Alex is still smiling and he rests his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together to use as a rest for his chin, “But, better is when you tell them about play in Russia with me.”

Nicklas sighs, “Alex,” he says, somewhat sternly, using his name the way he does when he want Alex to know he’s serious.

“I know, I know,” Alex waves a hand dismissively, “You’re not make up mind yet, but I know you say yes. Just wait for when,” and that seems to be all of the Russia talk for this lunch as Alex immediately moves on to other topics.

Nicklas wishes, not for the first time, that he had some insight into Alex’s mind, that he could see the way the Russian thinks and why he’s so sure that Nicklas is going to say yes. There’s a brief moment when Nicklas worries that maybe it’s because Alex knows how he feels, that he’s teasing him or something. But Alex isn't cruel, and it’s not his fault he doesn’t return Nicklas’ affections in the same way.

So Nicklas pushes that line of thinking far away and just laughs softly as their food arrives and as they eat, the conversation doesn't ever veer back to Russia. Until their food is long gone and Alex looks at his watch and proclaims with a somewhat sour expression that he has somewhere to be and so Alex has to take Nicklas home now. They stand and make their way to Alex’s car, neither saying much until right before Nicklas opens the door to get out.

“I’m leave tomorrow, early,” Alex says.

“I know,” Nicklas responds, because he does.

Then Alex is quiet for a moment and Nicklas wonders if maybe that was all he had to say, but he looks at Nicklas with an expression that’s so very Alex - half serious, half humorous - that it shoots straight to Nicklas’ heart and Alex says, “Still chance for you to come with me. On same plane. Very good plane company, you know this,” and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth in a teasing manner, but there’s something that doesn’t quite match it in his eyes and Nicklas can’t quite read the expression, something he’s not entirely used to when it comes to Alex.

And god it makes Nicklas want to say yes right then, just rush inside and pack all his things for a painfully long flight with Alex. But he doesn’t. He just bites the inside of his cheek and presses his lips together in a tight line and if he keeps answering Alex like this he’s really going to start feeling like an asshole, but still, he just says, “Still deciding, Ovi,” and gets out of the car quickly so Alex can’t see the expression on his face.

As he’s opening his door though, he hears Alex’s window roll down and Alex calls to him, “I’m call you tomorrow!” In a far too happy tone, and then the window is back up and Alex is driving away and Nicklas hopes to god that Alex meant tomorrow when he gets to Russia.

\--

Alex did not mean tomorrow when he gets to Russia.

For the second time in as many days, Nicklas is awoken by a phone call from Alex before his alarm goes off and the Russian must have a death wish because it’s not even five in the morning.

“What,” Nicklas answers with no false pretenses of being polite or anything but pissed off at being woken up at 4:43 in the morning.

“Nicky!” Alex smiles on the other end and his early morning cheerfulness is getting old, “My plane leave, two hours, last chance you come with me on plane, have great seat neighbor!”

It’s not that Nicklas didn’t know this was what was coming, it’s just that it’s way too early in the morning, “Fuck off, Alex. I’m going back to bed. Call me later. When you’re in Russia,” he clarifies, and then he hangs up, rolls over, and goes back to sleep.

He wakes up again, this time when his actual alarm goes off and immediately feels bad about being so cranky on the phone with Alex. But it’s not like he can call and apologize or anything; Alex’s plane will have taken off by now. So he just sighs and gets up to get ready for his day.

He goes for a run then comes back and takes a shower, and then he’s not sure what to do after that. He wants to go for a skate, because that usually helps clear his mind, but he’s worried if he’s skating, he won’t be able to keep from thinking about Alex. He does still need to decide where he’s going. If he’s not playing hockey, he won’t be able to stay in the states, so he does have to go somewhere but wherever he goes, he doesn’t necessarily have to play hockey.

He wants to though. Hockey is the thing he loves most in the world - besides maybe Alex - and he doesn’t want to potentially spend a whole season not playing.

And he wants to go to Russia, but he can’t help feeling like it’s a bad idea.

So he doesn’t spend the day deciding where to go, and instead spends it trying not to think about Alex. He watches some T.V. for a few hours, but can’t really seem to focus on it, so he picks out a book from his list that he’s been meaning to read and starts in on that, spends the rest of the day curled up on his couch, reading, but not really processing any of it. He’ll have to read it all over again probably.

Around six in the evening, when he’s starting to think about dinner, his phone goes off again. Part of him doesn’t want to pick up, doesn’t even want to look at the caller ID and see Alex’s stupid name staring back at him but. He could never do that, not to his best friend. He’s actually a little surprised that it took Alex this long to call; his flight should have landed about an hour and a half ago.

“Happy to be back home?” Nicklas greets Alex as he picks up the phone.

There’s a soft sort of contemplative sound on the other end followed by Alex’s almost sleepy voice telling him, “Not really home without you.”

Nicklas freezes, heart stopping in his chest and what does that mean. God, why does Alex always have to be like this, and why does it have to be one of the things that Nicklas just loves about him. He doesn’t really get much time to decipher those words and luckily Alex doesn’t wait for any kind of response, just keeps talking like he hadn’t just said something totally weird, “Always forget how long flight back to Moscow is; I’m feel so stiff Nicky.”

“How long ago did you land?” Nicklas asks, more on autopilot now because it’s something he doesn’t have to think about and there’s a sort of groan on the other end that Nicklas has come to know means Alex is stretching.

“Hour ago, about.”

Nicklas can’t help but tease, like it’s second nature when it comes to talking with Alex, “And you waited this long to call me? I’m hurt, Ovi.”

The sleepy laugh that Alex breathes out does nothing to ease the tightness of Nicklas’ heart and God Nicklas misses him so much already, “Think maybe I wait longer you make up mind that you want come play here with me. Give you more time.”

“How considerate,” Nicklas responds dryly, but he’s smiling. He can’t help it, and Alex hums softly in agreement, “But I have not decided yet still. Now go to bed, Ovi.”

“Slept on plane, Nicky. Not tired.”

Nicklas snorts in response to that, well acquainted with exactly how restful sleep on a plane is, “It’s almost two in the morning there. Go sleep. In a real bed. Call me tomorrow.” and then in a change of pace, he hangs up on his captain.

\--

Not really home without you.

Nicklas wakes the next morning with those words rattling around his mind and no call from Alex. He frowns, sitting up in his bed staring at his phone, feeling… disappointed? That Alex hasn’t called him yet. And then there’s those words, spinning around his head and making everything worse.

Fuck it, he thinks for half a second and pulls up his messages, selecting his agent’s contact.

Made a decision. I’m going to Dynamo with Alex.

He has the message typed out, and he stares at it for at least a solid minute, his thumb hovering over the “send” button and he wants to press it so bad, wants to be there with Alex, wants to ask him in person what he meant about home and yet. Nothing has changed. It’s still a bad idea and he knows it.

Sighing, he rubs his hand over his face, erases the message and sets his phone down to go shower.

Halfway through scrubbing shampoo into his hair he hears his phone go off from where it sits on the bathroom counter and he knows it’s Alex. It’s always Alex. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second and steps out of the water, hair still soapy, wraps a towel around his waist and answers the phone.

“What took you so long?” It’s meant as a chirp to poke fun at how often Alex has been calling him but it comes out sounding too sincere, the depth of how much Nicklas is really missing him, even after only a day, transparent in his tone.

But Alex seem to notice, “Have parents and family here you know, Nicky. My life not revolve around you. You not always most important.” His tone is teasing and it is a joke but the words cut Nicklas in a way he doesn’t expect and he wants to shout back down the line that he wants to be the most important, should be the one who Alex’s life revolves around.

But his common sense wins out and he bites his tongue against the emotions he wants so bad to convey, choosing instead to chirp back, “You know people other than me?”

“Ha ha Nicky,” and once again Nicklas hates that he can hear the amused smile in Alex’s voice, “Very funny. But you know why I’m call.”

And there it is.

“Yes I know why you’re calling and I think you know I still haven’t decided.”

The humor is still in Alex’s voice and Nicklas can picture his stupid face as he responds, “I call because I know you have decide, just don’t know it yet. You come to Russia. I know.”

“How do you know, Ovi?” Nicklas finally lets himself ask, more because he can’t stop himself before the words are out of his mouth.

“I know because how I’m play without you? Need my center, Nicky.” Nicklas feels every unspoken word in Alex’s answer, he knows that what Alex is saying is that he needs Nicklas there and that he knows Nicklas will come because when has Nicklas ever not been right where Alex need him. And Nicklas hates him for being right.

Just like that his resolve crumbles and he knows he’s going to make the stupid decision.

But he hasn’t made it yet.

“You sound so sure, but. Still deciding Ovi.” If he tells Alex he’s still deciding, he gives himself time to pretend to try and talk himself out of being stupid. Even if he knows now that it’s futile.

“You come. I know. Need my center,” Alex repeats, “Call you tomorrow, Nicky. See you later.” And back to routine, Alex hangs up.

Nicklas sets his phone back on the counter, and blinks at the fogged over reflection in his mirror. He is so utterly fucked. He hasn’t made the decision to go to Russia, but he has made the decision to make that decision. It’s basically the same thing, but there’s enough of a difference that he feels like he can justify stalling making it final. Comforted only minimally by that heavily flawed logic, he returns to his shower.

Stalling lasts only as long as his shower does. Alex was right all along and Nicklas hates and loves him for that. He laughs, towelling his hair off in his bathroom, knowing that he should have just listened to Alex but when it comes to the Russian, Nicklas never can seem to think properly. Even know, the plan to pack and leave and fly to Moscow forming in his head, he’s still unsure; still doubting himself. There’s so much potential for disaster the the back of Nicklas’ brain can’t seem to shut up about but at this exact moment in time, he doesn’t care. All he can think about that he’s going to play hockey with Alex in Russia. He keeps repeating that thought over to himself and it’s strange probably - or it should be - for Nicklas to feel this way about doing something that he’s done for a living for five years now but somehow, it’s not the same. 

His hair is still dripping water down his shoulders as he sits in his kitchen, typing out a message to inform his agent of his plans. He spends the rest of the day making those plans final, finding a schedule to fly out, officiating the offer from Dynamo to come play with them, assuring his lodging in Moscow and it isn’t until that night as he head hits the pillow that it hits him how real it is now. He’s going to Russia. He’s going to play Dynamo hockey with Alex.

It’s last minute, so last minute, but his flight is the next day. The contract with Dynamo won’t be finalized by then, but there’s no use waiting to fly until it’s done since he knows it’s going to be done. There’s not much he needs to pack and it doesn’t take him long to do so; can’t quite tell if it’s a good thing or not that he feels calm and clear headed while he does so.

He falls asleep feeling unsure that he’d made the right choice, pretty sure he’d made the stupid choice, and positive that he wasn’t going to change his mind or regret it.

\--

Back on schedule the next morning, Alex calls him at 6:24am.

“You gotta stop doing this to me Ovi,” Nicklas grumbles into the receiver.

“When is your flight leave?” is the answer that comes from Alex and Nicklas doesn’t bother to ask or even wonder how Alex knew that Nicklas had already made his plans, knows that Alex just knows him too well at this point. After all, he knew Nicklas would come to play in Moscow with him, even when Nicklas himself didn’t.

Nicklas glances at his clock, grimacing at the time. Even when he’s supposed to be getting up earlier than his routine, Alex manages to wake him up before his alarm, “Four hours. Now fuck off and let me sleep extra half hour before have to deal with the hell that is Dulles.”

Alex laughs at that, full bodied and genuine in a way that Nicklas misses so much his stomach clenches with excitement at the idea that it won’t be long before he can hear that laugh in person again. “Fair enough. Text me flight info when you wake up, I pick you up. See you soon, Nicky.”

“See you soon.”

It strikes Nicklas that one of the few times that Alex has said a goodbye before hanging up really felt more like a hello.

\--

The rest of the day after Nicklas wakes back up feels like a blur, like he’s not really living it. He’s nervous, though he doesn’t know why, but he feels justified in his nervousness. It seems like mere minutes passed from the time of Alex’s morning call to where he sits now, his plane taking off and he turns his phone over in his hand, just for something to do.

He sleeps on the flight, on and off, because what else does one do on a nine hour flight? Somehow the flight seems to both last years and be over in the blink of an eye. As the plane taxis to the terminal suddenly Nicklas finds himself grinning, his leg bouncing as he sits, waiting for the okay to de-board.

It seems strange, he supposed to be excited about playing hockey with Alex, considering he’s been doing just that since he joined the NHL but it’s different and it feels different.

True to his word, as Nicklas exits the gate, Alex is standing there, stupid grey sweatpants and all, waiting for Nicklas and even though he practically sees Alex every day, taking him in now, the sight of him, it’s like a breath of fresh air for the Swede.

“Told you, you come.” Of course the first words out of Alex’s mouth are a chirp but Nicklas doesn’t care, he just hugs his captain. It’s three in the morning here in Moscow and Alex’s hair is mussed with sleep and Nicklas remembers exactly why he thought coming would be a bad idea but fuck if he doesn’t care.

“Shut up,” he huffs out a laugh as the hug ends, “You going to drive me to my hotel?”

Alex looks aghast, placing a hand over his chest, “Hotel? Nicky no! You stay with me. Is better, you see.”

The words squeeze Nicklas’ heart and he finds now that he’s here, he doesn’t have the willpower to argue, “Sure Ovi.”

The grin that splits Alex’s face is so blinding to Nicklas that he can’t help but smile back as Alex claps a hand on his shoulder, “Come let’s go home.”

Not really home without you.

The words reverberate back to Nicklas again but this time his stomach twists in a different way than when Alex said them and he thinks he understands what Alex meant. Alex is his best friend. They’ve played together for five years, and even if Alex doesn’t love Nicklas in the way that Nicklas loves him, it doesn’t mean that Alex doesn’t care for him, doesn’t miss him when he’s not around and Nicklas gets that. The thought makes him smile as they drive to Alex’s place.

There’s a guest room for Nicklas to sleep in, and as much as he wants to spend time with Alex, he’s grateful that Alex is as familiar with jet lag as Nicklas is and understands that right now, they both just need to sleep. 

\--

The smell of coffee rouses Nicklas, and even though he didn’t set an alarm, and he’s in a completely different time zone, he can tell he’s awake earlier than he should be. He’s enticed out of bed by curiosity though, wondering about the coffee being made. Sure, Nicklas needs at least two cups in the morning to really wake up, but Alex has always been more of a tea person.

Following the scent into the kitchen, Nicklas is greeted by the sight of a shirtless Alex sitting at his table, hands clasped around a mug of what is definitely not coffee.

“Nicky!” Alex’s face lights up when he sees Nicklas enter the room, dark hair sticking up at all ends on his head and eyes still sleepily unfocused, “You awake! Was going to let you sleep in little.”

Nicklas meant to ask why Alex was making coffee but what came out instead was, “Where’s coffee?” and Alex laughs and nods his head in the direction of the coffee pot, complete with a mug set out beside it.

“Not done yet, didn’t think you be up so soon,” It’s a chirp but Nicklas still can’t help but be slightly touched that Alex made coffee for him when he doesn’t really drink it himself.

When the pot is done brewing, Nicklas pours himself a cup and joins Alex at the table, and courteous as he is, Alex waits until Nicklas has had his first sip to begin attempting to have a real conversation.

“We go skate today, sound good?” he half informs half asks Nicklas after taking a sip of his tea.

“Practices aren’t started yet have they?” Nicklas asks, raising an eyebrow.

Alex shakes his head, “No not practice. Just skate, me and you.”

Nicklas finds himself nodding, liking the idea, “What time?”

There’s a smirk on Alex’s face that seems so natural, Nicklas wonders how it’s not always there, “What time you finish coffee?”

Forty minutes later Alex and Nicklas are dressed and fed and on their way to an ice rink, gear bags in the back of Alex’s car. They don’t dress all the way; why would they. Just skates, gloves, and sticks along with a bag of pucks, and skating around the fresh ice with Alex, occasionally shooting pucks at the net that Alex set up, Nicklas feels so at peace.

It isn’t until they’re messing around and Alex has put a puck in the back of the net and drops to the ice to glide along on his stomach, cackling like a mad man that Nicklas remembers viscerally all the parts of why this was a bad idea. He’s having fun, hanging out with his friend, messing around but God he wants it to be more. He doesn’t want to be hanging out with his friend. He wants to be here with Alex and have Alex feel the same way he does and it’s selfish and stupid and he shouldn’t want more than the amazing friendship he has but he can’t help it.

When he bends down to offer Alex a hand up, he has to fight the urge to pull him up by his jacket and kiss him. He can’t do that though. He doesn’t want to ruin what he has. It doesn’t stop him from wanting though, and from staring.

“Something wrong, Nicky?” Alex’s voice, laced with mild concern pulls Nicklas from his wallowing and he shakes his head.

“Fine,” he laughs softly, “Maybe I’m still a little tired from the plane,” he offers, hoping Alex will buy it.

The excuse seems to work okay because Alex suggests, “Let’s clean up. Get some lunch, no?” and Nicklas agrees, helping to collect the pucks and put the net away before heading to the locker room.

Nicklas has played hockey his whole life and he’s played hockey on the same team as Alex for five years; he’s changed in a locker room with Alex too many times to even consider counting, but he feels like his eyes are glued to Alex’s back as the Russian pulls his sweaty shirt over his head and rolls his shoulders to stretch them out. Nicklas’ mouth goes dry and he knows he’s seen Alex change on too many occasions but like this, just the two of them it’s so different and Nicklas wants to smack his past self for thinking this was a good idea.

He has to look away, but he so doesn’t want to. Alex is beautiful, perfectly carved, and Nicklas has to physically turn the other way to tear his gaze from him.

Nicklas is a quiet person around most people; it’s a reputation he quickly acquired, but those who are close to him and know him well know that he’s only really like that in front of the media. Unfortunately Alex knows him better than almost anyone and the silence between the two as they change must be deafening.

“What you thinking about?” Alex asks from behind him, startling him slightly and Nicklas has to pull his own shirt over his head and breathe before turning around to tell him that he’s nothing thinking about anything, just tired.

But that’s not what he says. Instead, he turns around, opens his mouth, closes it, and then sits down on the bench. He stares at the floor for probably too long, and when he doesn’t give an answer soon enough, Alex moves to stand in front of him hands on his hips, still shirtless and head cocked to the side and Nicklas looks up.

He looks up at Alex, standing in the locker room of an ice rink in Moscow Russia, and asks what he’s been too afraid to know the answer too since their impromptu Chinese dinner a mere week ago.

“Why did you want me to come play with you here so much?”

Alex’s expression softens and he smiles, just faintly. It’s not a smile that Nicklas sees on Alex’s face very often, but he notes that he’s only ever seen it directed at himself. It’s a nice smile, but it doesn’t do much to calm the tumultuous sea of thoughts raging in his head.

“Nicky,” Alex says, voice almost chiding, but still soft, and quiet in the empty locker room and only now does Nicklas notice how close they really are, his own face tilted up toward Alex’s angled down at him, “I tell you before. Stop thinking so much.”

At first, Nicklas doesn’t even realize what’s happening, but then Alex’s hands are on either side of his face, pulling him in and Alex’s lips are on his and oh.

Alex’s lips are cold, but not in a bad way, just chilly like the air of the ice rink they had just been in and he tastes mint on his tongue, but Nicklas can’t tell if it’s from toothpaste or just the way that Alex is. Nicklas can’t breathe, it feels like, except that he knows that he can because he keeps inhaling Alex’s scent, closer than he’s ever been to him and it’s overwhelming and all consuming in just the way that Nicklas has been craving.

He’s kissing Alex Ovechkin.

He doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts, only that it’s over too soon and then Alex is speaking again, “Need my center, Nicky. Couldn’t wait for you forever.”

Nicklas gets the idea that Alex isn’t just talking about waiting for him to come to Russia. 

He blinks at Alex, breath still stolen from his lungs and he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to agree, so he just laughs, soft and genuine because he feels a weight pulled from his chest, one that he knew was there, but didn’t realize how heavy it had truly been. Relief floods through him like he’s never felt before but still he doesn’t know what to say. How does Alex always manage to do this to him?

\--

“Okay. One thing I don’t get,” It’s the first Nicklas has spoken since the locker room. They’re sitting in Alex’s living room both on their phones, though Nicklas hasn’t been paying any attention to his.

“Only one thing?” Alex chirps immediately, not looking up from his phone and when Nicklas looks over at him, he’s got that smirk on his face, tongue poking out from between his teeth and only then does Alex look at him, clearly pleased with himself.

Nicklas doesn’t grace him with a reaction, just continues, “How did you know… I mean I thought I… Was I that obvious?”

Setting his phone down, Alex considers it for a moment, “Not so obvious. I’m just… know you.”

Okay. Nicklas supposes that makes sense. He swallows, “How long did you know?”

Alex doesn’t answer, just gives Nicklas a look that tells him it wasn’t a recent revelation. At that, Nicklas frowns, “So why didn’t you tell me sooner? Or- or at least I don’t know give me something, show me that it wasn’t… just me? Why now?”

Nicklas doesn’t remember saying anything funny, but Alex laughs anyway. It’s not a mean laugh, but like there’s a joke that Nicklas just doesn’t know about, “Nicky,” Alex breathes, “I try tell you, little. All time at practice, tell you look good, tell you like me, think we good together. You just not get!” He reaches over and taps Nicklas on the top of his head, “You- thick skull. Not get subtle. Have to drag to Russian and kiss in locker room. Am patient, Nicky, but only so.”

A crease forms in Nicklas’ brow as he thinks over their interactions. It’s true, he supposes, that Alex’s behaviour towards him could have been seen as a little flirty but- “That’s just how you are though!”

Alex smiles again, in that way that means he knows something Nicklas doesn’t, “That how I am yes - around you. Only you Nicky.”

Oh.

Oh.

Now Nicklas feels like an idiot for not seeing it. He supposes he was too caught up in worrying about ruining his friendship with Alex to see any behaviour Alex displayed towards him as anything other than that of a friend.

Still. “Should have just told me, asshole.”

Alex shrugs and grins like he’s just won something, “Wanted to wait for you to figure out,” He shrugs, “Couldn’t wait forever.” he parrots his own earlier words and Nicklas rolls his eyes, though he’s smiling.

“You’re crazy.”

“You like though.”

Nicklas grins then, really grins and nods, “Yeah. I do,” and then he leans over on the couch and kisses Alex, just because he can.

**Author's Note:**

> so i took a loooooot of liberties with this and did only minimal research but i hope there's not real blaring mistakes that make it unenjoyable! it didn't really go exactly the way that i planned when i was first inspired to write it, but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out and i hope you had as much fun reading it as i did writing it!!


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